


my future (or just an escape)

by jjxneus



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gay yearning, House Party, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, One Night Stands, Other, Self-Reflection, Songfic, Yearning, background youngjo/keonhee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26890483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjxneus/pseuds/jjxneus
Summary: Seoho lies awake - just thinking, thinking, thinking.He’s used to running but there’s something about this, about Hwanwoong and Dongju, that has him staying with the hope that if he does, this could be something more.
Relationships: Lee Seoho/Son Dongju | Xion, Lee Seoho/Son Dongju | Xion/Yeo Hwanwoong, Lee Seoho/Yeo Hwanwoong, Son Dongju | Xion/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23





	my future (or just an escape)

**Author's Note:**

> it's me, jjxneus, back again with yet another Bastille songfic >:D this time for the song [Those Nights](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eLittIRa8A)
>
>> _will you be my future or just an escape?  
>  love me, love me, love me _

Seoho lies awake - just thinking, thinking, thinking. 

Body exhausted but sleep won’t come even when he closes his eyes, so he may as well keep them open. Open and staring, staring, staring up at the ceiling tracing over endless shapes. 

_He’s enjoying himself, right? Enjoying himself, enjoying this party, enjoying the sick weight on his tongue as people dance and talk around him. He smiles, he laughs, he flows and weaves his way between bodies with his cup in hand._

_No, he’s not lonely. There’s a couple dancing together beside him. No, he’s not lonely. There’s another couple making out beside the table he’s walking to. No, he’s not lonely. Off to the side he sees Youngjo with his arms around Keonhee who has seated himself on the older’s lap. No, he’s not lonely, he’s just fine, thank you._

_Someone’s watching him, he knows, he doesn’t mind, he’s been watching them too, all night and waiting, hoping, wondering. Their eyes burn into him, into the back of his neck, there’s someone else beside them now, shorter than them and with their hair half blonde half pink. Seoho sees both of them staring when he turns around and he walks, stumbles, steadies himself. He makes his way over, his eyes wide and watching them too. Maybe this could be something, maybe this is a mistake, maybe he won’t know until he steps forward. Maybe he won’t know while he’s aware of his body, aware of every little movement, aware, aware, aware of how he must look to everyone else._

He’s between two bodies, naked beneath the covers and burning hot, hot, hot where they make contact. Someone’s hand is on his chest, someone’s hand is on his thigh. He’s awake, so his brain runs through a thousand thoughts a second as he lies there and breathes, in and out, in and out, in and out. 

He’s floating, he thinks, his mind a little more far away, his body not quite really here. The cold air of his bedroom makes him shiver, still sweaty and gross and exhausted but _good,_ so good. He’s awake but exhausted, memories float in and out of his head, replaying themselves as his body aches and aches. But it’s good. It’s like there’s a part of him that’s still drawn to the two that lay with him, drawn closer, closer, closer to them until they’re nothing but an embracing mass of limbs and he no longer knows where his body starts and ends. 

What was this, what were they, what happened here, what will become of them? 

Seoho blinks slowly, throat dry when he swallows, fingers twitching as one of the sleeping bodies shifts and he freezes. He is the only one still awake, he thinks - he hopes - the only one plagued by the shadows of a sleep that will not come. What was this to him? Was this just another one night escape - to feel the heat of a body against his, to give and to hold, to be taken apart and taken out of his mind, hidden in the dark and the pretense of anonymity? Just an escape, he tells himself, just another one night stand to add to his list, and he’s okay with that. It’s just an escape. 

But that’s not what he wants. 

_The party is emptying, his friends are all leaving, leaving, leaving, like moths drawn to the streetlamps outside. He’s fine, of course, just fine. He busies himself with helping Youngjo clean up the place, picking up stray cups and throwing them in the bin from across the living room while Keonhee calls out point scores. But he can only ignore the inevitable for so long - the way Youngjo smiles at him with one hand holding Keonhee’s, the way his catlike eyes stare and watch Seoho’s movements, the way his voice is soft and gentle as he asks if Seoho will be staying in the guest room overnight._

_There’s no shame, no judgement for being by himself, for not wanting to travel all the way back home alone while everyone else has grouped up to leave. No, Youngjo would never even think to view Seoho with any cruel or mocking intent. But it still makes something dark and heavy twist his stomach as he envisions sitting in the taxi staring out the window with only his jacket to keep him warm, as he imagines opening the front door of his house to the sound of nothing, nothing, nothing but his own breath._

_It’s loneliness._

_As loathe as he is to admit it, he’s lonely - he loves his friends, he does, the loneliness fades away when he’s surrounded by their company. But it’s something a little different that he craves when that loneliness creeps back in. So he’s holding on for someone to leave with._

_It isn’t the first time that he’s only smiled back at Youngjo, shook his head and ignored the way that Youngjo squeezes his shoulder with emotions he doesn’t want to decipher. He keeps his own emotions in his chest, locked up behind the bars of his ribcage, but Youngjo knows, Youngjo sees right through the smile Seoho gives him. He just smiles back and nods, a curious, knowing look in his eyes._

_Seoho turns and stumbles over his own feet back into the living room that he expects will be empty but no, it seems he isn’t the only one hoping to leave with someone tonight._

_The pair are smiling at him and he doesn’t want to be alone, doesn’t want to go home alone, doesn’t want to ignore the look in their eyes. He thinks they’re familiar, watching, watching, watching him as he stares back. Maybe he’s seen them before at one of Youngjo’s other parties, maybe he hasn’t. But they’re beautiful and he’s drawn to them - like a moth to their flames - flying closer and closer, unafraid to get burnt and he invites them home with a smile that he doesn’t realise is just as bright as the sun to them as theirs are to him._

He’s not sure how long he’s been lying here awake, not quite floating in and out of sleep, but not quite fully aware anymore either. His thoughts fade from one to the next in a chain of associations that he’s too tired to follow, dots connected by a line that he can’t trace so he stares only at the points themselves. He wants more. He doesn’t mind being alone but he’s sick of the loneliness. He’s always longing, longing, longing for something more. He wants something he’s too afraid to have, something that makes him want to twist and curl and hide from view. 

He doesn’t like to think about it, but now that he’s started he just can’t stop. He can’t stop hoping for someone to be beside him when he wakes up, for someone he can wake up to and wake up with, for someone he can call his. And, despite the haze of not-quite-sleep that clouds his mind, one thought cuts through it all with alarming clarity - he hopes these two that lay beside him - holding him close between their bodies, holding him like he’s something precious - want something more with him too. He wants this to last- a future, even if that future is only the morning after. 

_Their hands are tugging at his shirt as he leads them to his room, pulling and lifting as he wraps his fingers around their wrists and pulls, pulls, pulls them closer to him, drags them into his warmth. One of them kisses him, then the other, then the first, his head is spinning in the best way possible as he stumbles backwards through the door. But there’s something different about this._

_His shirt is off, thrown to a corner of the room, hands are in his hair, hands are gliding up his chest, hot, hot, hot. He doesn’t remember when he closed his eyes but it makes everything burn so much more, flames engulfing him and he loves it. He opens his eyes and the one with half-pink hair cradles his face, eyes so dark that Seoho can do nothing but fall, fall, fall into their void. He’s kissed hard with teeth sinking into his lower lip as the other one bites between his neck and his shoulder. Seoho gasps and wrenches his head away, throwing it back with a whine that gets a laugh in response. Then he’s being kissed again and he whispers, his heart pounding in his chest-_

_What’s your name, what’s your name, what’s your name._

_Hwanwoong, answers the one with half-pink hair, his eyes shining now, looking at Seoho as if he’s a treasure to be revered. A low voice answers from behind him - Dongju._

_Hwanwoong and Dongju, Hwanwoong and Dongju, Hwanwoong and Dongju._

_Like twin serpents twisting around him and he can hear how desperate he sounds, a smile on his lips as he does what he does best and leaves traces of himself on the two of them, marks that will linger, and teases them until they pout and twist around him for more, more, more - for everything he can give._

_He’s done this countless times but there’s something that’s just different in a way he can’t explain about how Dongju smiles at him, how Hwanwoong presses kisses to his knuckles, but then Seoho is being pushed down onto his bed and their hands are all over him, nails trailing up along his abs, fingers digging into his hips, and he’s feeling so, so good that he has no interest in his thoughts anymore._

And what has he been chasing? All this time, all this night. He’s been in this situation before, remembers it clearly - remembers lying here awake and unafraid just staring at the ceiling. Only he remembers every other time ringing with the sound of clothes being thrown back on and belts re-buckled, not soft snores and warm hands resting against his skin. No one ever stays, but this time is different somehow, for some reason. 

Is there a happy ending? For him? For this? Is there a path where this ends all tied up with a pretty pink bow as pink as Hwanwoong’s hair? He wants to run, sometimes, often, most of the time, usually - (a l w a y s). Always too scared to hold on, too scared to be selfish, to cling to a happy ending for himself. But there was something here that clung to _him_ with a promise of more. 

With the smell of sex still lingering in the air, he knows he’ll never get to heaven on a night like this - until he’s honest with himself, until he faces what he feels, what he wants - but he can try, oh, he can try. 

_He can’t quite imagine how he must look, lying on his back and breathing heavily as he watches Dongju shuffle out of the bathroom next door. Hwanwoong is somewhere to his other side, invisible until the bed dips and his face swims into view. Seoho braces himself for the questions that usually come next - if he can call them a taxi, if he could pay for one for them to get back home, if he could direct them back to the front door._

_But none of it comes._

_Hwanwoong just laughs as he trails his fingers over Seoho’s arms, bending down to place a kiss to a particularly hard bite Dongju had left on Seoho’s shoulder. Dongju himself comes over to join them once more, sitting down on the bed on Seoho’s other side and just watching him. Hwanwoong’s eyes are soft, sleepy, warm, when he next meets Seoho’s gaze - and Seoho imagines he must look a little stunned to him, a bit out of it, like a rabbit in the headlights._

_Well, if this is how it feels to be with the two of them, Seoho thinks he doesn’t mind at all._

How many times has he tried? How many times has he run?

He always feels like he doesn’t quite fit, doesn’t quite belong, in relationships like this - like he hasn’t quite found his place yet. He knows part of that is his own fault. He doesn’t open up easily, stays unknowable as best as he can no matter how opening and welcoming those around him are. He’s happy, encouraging, likes to ensure there’s always a smile on his friends’ faces - but has he ever stopped to ask himself what he wants? 

No. No he doesn’t think about it, doesn’t ask, doesn’t like to address his own feelings like that. Maybe he’s afraid. He certainly feels a little afraid now, lying on his back still with the blankets down to his waist as Hwanwoong and Dongju cuddle themselves closer. He’s always run, from being known too well, from the chance that he could fuck it all up - there’s a part of him that he’s now finally acknowledging that craves the intimacy and closeness that he’s always run from. 

But there’s something here that gives him hope. He can pinpoint it a little more clearly now, his head feeling a little less hazy even as he starts falling asleep. Maybe it's the way they looked at him, smiled at him, held him close even now on either side of him. 

Sleep finally finds him and he drifts off clinging to the hope that this could be something more. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey thanks for reading!! please consider leaving a kudos/comment if you liked it ;v;
> 
> you can also find me here  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jjxneus) ♡ [cc](https://curiouscat.me/jjxneus)


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